


Two Hearts Divided

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Case Fic, Coming Out, Confessions, DMLE Worker Harry Potter, Dark Magic, Epistolary, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Ghost Clearance Expert Draco, Ghosts, H/D Cluefest 2021, Happy Ending, M/M, Memories, Mental Health Issues, Murder Mystery, Nineteenth Century Pure-Blood Traditions, Permanent Injury, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Reminiscing, Spoiler in the End Notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28713090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Draco Malfoy, the celebrated Ghost Clearance Expert, is in Germany, trying to solve the tricky little matter of a stubborn ghost called Clara von Kellern. Exasperated after trying every spell he knows, Draco sends an owl to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in London, requesting their urgent help.Little does Draco know that the clerk who willingly grasps his letter is Harry Potter.Injured in action, Harry enjoys a quiet, deskbound existence and sees Draco’s letters as a bit of excitement to brighten up his dull days. Harry has no idea that investigating Clara’s life, and that of her beau (and potential murderer) Ernst Wernet will lead to the beginnings of a love affair all of his own.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 57
Collections: H/D Cluefest 2021





	Two Hearts Divided

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so very much CuriousEmWanders for your super speedy beta and all your encouraging comments.  
> Please check the end notes for minor additional warnings.

_Department of Magical Artefacts_  
_Draco L. Malfoy_  
_Manor House Golm_  
_Germany_

_February 10th, 2008_

_British Ministry of Magic_  
_Department of Magical Law Enforcement_  
_Auror Office | Criminal Records Office_

_MINISTRY INTERNAL REQUEST_  
_Concerning case MA103107_

_Request for file information, Criminal Records Office_

_To Whom It May Concern—_

_This letter is in hopes of receiving statute-barred file information from the Criminal Records Office. As I am currently abroad in Germany, I am unfortunately not able to access the corresponding files personally._

_In case you’re unaware of the details concerning the above named matter: I was sent to attend a German manor house that is said to be haunted, owned by our very own Harris Vernet, Head of Improper Use of Magic Office. As the estate is to be sold, it is meant to be a hundred percent Muggle-proof from top to bottom when finished._

_Since the extent of the mission at hand turns out to be a slight miscalculation on behalf of the supervisor in charge, who sent for a one-wizard-team to clear a manor within four workdays, my arranged Portkey will leave without me. I am currently faced with not only infuriated paintings, smug hunting trophies and an ominously mesmerising looking glass, but also with a dotty yet vengeful spirit who resides in the house, which, all rooms and part of the grounds considered, will be worth at least a fortnight of my time if not longer._

_Hence, I am requesting not only a well-deserved raise but information on the murderer of said ghost. The perpetrator once was successfully convicted by our noble Law Enforcement for anything but the murder of my spectral acquaintance, though the date of imprisonment is unclear. Unfortunately, the name and date of birth must suffice:_

_August Ernst Wernet, 12th of December 1798_

_The crime behind Wernet’s short-time imprisonment is the true reason for this letter, for my spirit companion will not rest—nor confide the needed combination for the door to the locked parlour to me—to the day that it’s a proven fact that her murderer, once near friend (I’m rather certain they were lovers, she’s very invested), had or had not been justly convicted for her murder._

_As I do understand that gathering information on behalf of eccentric ghosts abroad is nothing our salary would cover, dear colleague, I am appealing to your sense of conscience. The mission is considered high priority since it concerns one of our officials. I’d be tremendously grateful for any kind of assistance that would allow me to accomplish my unaccompanied mission without further delay._

_Sincerely,_

_D. Malfoy_

~*~*~*~

**From: British Ministry of Magic**  
**Department of Magical Law Enforcement**  
**Auror Office | Criminal Records**

**February 10th, 2008**

**To: Department of Magical Artifacts**  
**Draco L. Malfoy**  
**Manor House Golm,**  
**Germany**

**Dear Mr Malfoy,**

**RE: Case: MA103107; request for file information.**

**I write in reference to the above-named matter.**

**Requests to this office are normally allocated at the start of a new week, but it was decided by Head Auror Robards that this matter would be expedited.**

**We here at the DMLE are very keen to show our German Ministry Counterparts that we are swift and efficient whenever we are asked for our support, and…**

**Look, I’m just going to stop right there.**

**I can’t write another word of this diplomatic mumbo-jumbo. Not to you, anyway! I can be supremely professional with anyone else but it’s not going to wash with you.**

**Malfoy, it’s me! Harry Potter! I’m not going to insult your intelligence by asking if you remember me from school. You’re not likely to have forgotten me, are you? We were at each other’s necks for seven long years! I have to say, for all that we were so-called adversaries, my memories of our run-ins are some of my most intense from my Hogwarts years. Well, apart from all that saving the world stuff I did.**

**I’m going to be honest with you – and by the way, what should I call you? ‘Mr. Malfoy’ sounds too formal, but ‘Malfoy’ sounds a bit too blunt. We’re not at school anymore, are we? What about Draco? Would that be acceptable? You’re welcome to tell me to sod off if you wish! – anyway, when I saw your owl letter arrive, with your distinctive wax seal, I made a speedy beeline for it. It wasn’t hard to convince Robards to let me work with you. Now I’m a Ministry paper-pusher rather than a front-line Auror it doesn’t matter what I do. My time here in the office is pretty much my own. The DMLE is hardly likely to sack me.**

**So, yes, I’ve read your letter a couple of times and I’ve got it here, open on my desk while I’m writing.**

**Your ghost sounds like a very problematic character. Still, your reputation precedes you, Draco (again, I hope you don’t mind my familiarity!) You’re one of the best phantom, poltergeist and ghoul clearance experts in the whole of England. I’ll admit grudgingly, I have followed your career in the Prophet. That ghost clearance you did over at Tewkesbury Hall was some first-class work. You were really brave. Did you have a lot of ghosts in Malfoy Manor when you were growing up, or perhaps was it all your run-ins with the Bloody Baron, down in the Slytherin dungeons? Whichever it was, you were always destined to do brilliantly at whatever you chose to do.**

**Sorry, I’m going off-topic again! You’ll have to excuse my rambling. Life down here in the DMLE Records Office can get rather monotonous. Your letter happens to be the most exciting thing that’s happened in ages.**

**I mean, I swear to Merlin that I’m not complaining! If that blasted curse had hit me in the chest rather than my leg then I’d have lost my life rather than the ability to run. If you can’t keep up with the rest of your team you shouldn’t be in the field, simple as that…**

**Okay, I’m going to stop gabbing now. I can see you, grumbling as you read. I bet you’ve rolled your eyes at me already. I don’t mind. I probably deserve it.**

**Alright! Back to the matter at hand.**

**August Ernst Wernet, born 1798.**

**For such an ancient case, his criminal file is surprisingly thick. Wernet was a pure-blood wizard. He spent a little time after Hogwarts making a Grand Tour of the continent, which is how he came to be in Germany. It seems, from the correspondence I’ve read so far, that Wernet was staying with a Kellett family? Or it could be Kellern? The writing is very smudged and old fashioned. By all accounts he was a thoroughly decent chap. He was sorted into Ravenclaw as a youth; indeed, some of his professors spoke in his defense at the Wizengamot trial.**

**That’s all I’ve found out so far, but, like I said, there is a lot to read. I’m going to take the file home over the weekend and see if I can fathom exactly why Wernet ceased his travels once he arrived in Germany.**

**I would hazard a guess that it has something to do with your ghostly lady. I’m certainly no expert – the only special somebody in my life is my cat, Medea! – but it seems to me that love makes you do rash things.**

**Perhaps if you could find the name of your ghoulish companion or give me a description of the clothes that she is wearing? Both of those facts would be tremendously useful.**

**As for getting a raise – now that is a magic trick that is little bit beyond both of our magical skills!**

**Have a good weekend, Draco Malfoy. It’s hard to believe that for the first time in our lives we are working together rather than against one another.**

**Your correspondent and, I hope, friend,**

**Harry J. Potter**

~*~*~*~

_February 11th, 2008_

_Harry sodding Potter,_

_Yes, now that you mention it, I might distinctly recall your face. Just go ahead and call me by my given name then, Scarhead. I don’t mind. You appear to be intrigued by a certain aura of luxury (exhibit #1: my magnificent wax seal)—in which case you might also address me as Lord Malfoy._

_All kidding aside, and I quite frankly can’t believe I’m writing this but: it’s awfully good to read you, Harry. It goes without saying that, now these words are evidently inked into a piece of parchment, I expect you to Incendio the letter straight away. After reading it thoroughly, that is._

_I remember that the Prophet once informed me about your injury. Saviour sacrificed himself yet again, valiant deeds in the service of the Ministry, yada yada. Good thing that all this twaddle appears to secure your place at the DMLE at least. I do realise that I used to make fun of your boorish sensationalism back in fourth year or something; today I can’t quite fathom how you put up with all the reporters and the bootlickers at the Ministry—then or now. Now that my humble self is represented in the papers every so often, I catch myself avoiding the Prophet systematically._

_Before my semi-buoyant words condescend to a political rant, I would like to resume my mention of your injury: Whatever in Salazar’s name happened? I had no idea that you are working at the Records Office. Harry Potter with a white-collar occupation. I’m flummoxed, to say the least._

_Let me be the one to break it to you. You hardly wear it well. Your tone is way too cheerful for a clerk; you ought to go for something in between world-weary and bored. And I’m sure that the number of exclamation marks you used in just one letter must exceed some kind of permit that may or may not be recorded in the DMLE handbook on proper bureaucracy. I dare you to ask Granger if such a thing exists—in case the Golden Trio is still in touch. I’ll wager you a bottle of my second-best Elf-made wine that she will know._

_As for me, I must thank you for your complimentary words concerning my career. While anyone with eyes can see that I sure am shockingly brilliant at what I’m doing, I’ll have you know that it’s actually all about my supreme wand. It’s the very wand that caused You-Know-Who's demise, you must know._

_Well, seriously? The Manor was a mess after the war. Ghosts, poltergeists, ghouls, cursed objects, dark magic lurking in every corner. I’ve learned my profession well before I scored my apprenticeship at the Ministry. I will stop right here to spare you from reminiscing those dark times that caused this devastating state of my childhood home. That’s not your burden to carry, Potter. (Oops, scratch that. Harry.)_

_One last thing before we get to business. I can’t quite believe that you called your cat Medea. How fascinating. Not only does this exceed any expectations I had of your knowledge of the Ancient Wizarding World, but Medea also happens to be a witch who filled the most enchanting (add: morbid) stories in my childhood. You may be aware that her golden chariot is believed to be driven by dragons and—well, it does feel kind of awkward to tell, but—when I was still a young lad, Mother couldn’t tell enough tales and myths about them. What kind of fellow is this endearing cat creature? I do hope her life is less tragic than that of her eponym._

_I apologise, should my ramblings be inconvenient and too time-consuming. I might have gotten carried away but there’s just so much to catch up to, am I right? Can’t believe I just started a correspondence with Harry Potter. Not as in Our-Beloved-Saviour but as in you, you insufferable tosser. See, I’m doing it again._

_Anyhow. On the female ghost who won’t contain herself whenever it comes to my supposedly ungallant manners (Ungallant, me? This gentlewoman can hardly be serious, don’t you reckon?). She told me that her name is Clara von Kellern. It’s her maiden name, for she died a spinster._

_Merlin, I wrote down so many possible letter combinations of her name before we got it right—one might have gotten the idea I tried to decipher the Enigma code. It’s sometimes hard to communicate properly. We mostly try to talk French; my German is only so good. Depending on what it is about, Clara’s English ranges from fragmentary to completely incomprehensible. It would seem that English wasn’t en vogue at the time._

_She confirms, however, that her suave Ernst travelled the continent before they met. She becomes dreadfully thin-lipped whenever I try to inquire further which proves as an effective way to silence her. Such a welcome change, I assure you._

_Let me tell you about Clara’s fashion choices. She wears a décolleté chemise dress, not tapered (which is a sheer crime as far as I’m concerned). Meander-shaped neckline and hem. Tulle ribbon below her bosom. Short, pinched sleeves which might have been considered quite saucy at the time if I’m not mistaken. Grand bonnet with a variety of bands and flowers. White colours, she told me; just as was the custom at that time. It’s your typical Mode à la grecque kind of outfit._

_In your words: Miss von Kellern wears a net curtain for a day dress and a flower bouquet for a hat. Glad to help._

_I’m currently frequenting a small parlour here in the manor house. It’s surprisingly free from magic. There are no words for how relieved I am that there’s no house-magic involved here. Would have taken forever to clear this house in time. I’ll be spending most of the weekend sorting through objects in the drawing room and the East Parlour that might or might not be Charmed or Transfigured or Cursed. Should be the easy part, although Clara is watching my every move. She’s quite a nuisance. Reminds me of someone I know from school._

_I wish you a pleasant weekend, Potter. I will try to cure my writer’s cramp for now._

_Best wishes,_

_Draco_

_P.S. I hope I don’t come off uncouth or smug. One never knows when I’m in jest and when I’m serious; or so I’ve been told at least. So, just say so, and I’ll save the theatrics. I’ve read your letter several times and I appreciate your words. But I won’t deign to call you my friend, you little Hufflepuffish sap. Also, I just realised that I called you Potter again. Old habits die hard, I guess. Circe, this P.S. is ridiculously long._

~*~*~*~

**February 13th, 2008**

**My most venerable Lord Malfoy!**

**You’ll be delighted to know that I’ve just finished your letter, Draco, and I’m currently digesting its contents alongside a milky coffee and a chocolate Hob-Nob.**

**As requested, I’ve read it meticulously, but I can assure you that no Incendio or any destruction spells of any kind will be occurring. It’s those fiddly Ministry paperwork charms, I’m afraid! Don’t worry, your semi-sociable words will stay firmly locked within the walls of my office. I’m as good as a Secret Keeper in that regard. You won’t even have to cast a Fidelius Charm.**

**My first observation? Yes, your letter was remarkably long – and your handwriting is impressively neat! – but that’s only good news in my humble opinion. That means I can be equally talkative in my reply and you can’t tease me, even a jot. Like I mentioned in my last letter, things down here in the Records Office can get a little humdrum. Still, I’ve got Madam Margaret, my ninety-odd-year-old colleague, to keep me company.**

**She’s sat across from me as we speak, snoring away contentedly. My life, as the Muggles say, isn’t exactly ‘rock and roll.’ I’d imagine that you’d describe me as the same tedious git you always told me I was at Hogwarts.**

**Perhaps, as you said, I ought to be more ‘world weary and bored,’ and perhaps some days I’m both of those things.**

**Other days, like today, I’m just happy to be alive. Here’s a secret for you, Draco Malfoy, and one that I never expected to commit to parchment. Life being an Auror wasn’t everything that I imagined it might be, back when we were at school. Even on my first day of training I knew that it wasn’t for me.**

**It wasn’t all the throwing hexes and spells that I minded – before you roll your eyes, my Expelliarmus is still the DMLE record! – it was the Ministry. All their bureaucracy. All their red tape. My job wasn’t ever about helping people, Draco. It was all about helping those in power to stay in power. Like this job of yours: if Golm Manor wasn’t owned by Harris Vernet, I doubt that England’s premier Ghost Clearance Expert would be over there, cleaning out all the various nooks and crannies.**

**The truth is, that nasty little curse has probably done more to improve my existence than it has to ruin it – and I remember those lurid _Prophet_ headlines too – but truthfully, my life is better now than it ever was before.**

**I get to see Teddy Lupin most weekends (and yes, he has shown me all the brilliant toys you’ve sent him from all over the world, you’re very generous!) and I get to see my friends far more than before my injury as well.**

**You’ll be happy to know that the rest of the Golden Trio are every bit as happy as ever. Ron and Hermione are still as nauseatingly in love as the day they married. I promise I’m not bitter – well, maybe I am a little bit – but my romantic life is abysmal. Fellows want the big hero that the _Prophet_ seems to think I am. The real me, with my limp, my over-consumption of takeaways and my white-collar job is always a bit of a disappointment.**

**As for your wager, you’re on! I’m due to visit the Granger-Weasley’s this evening. I will ask about my overuse of exclamation marks then, although I can promise faithfully that my use of them won’t decrease in the slightest, whatever Hermione’s answer might be. The Muggle Junior School that I attended wasn’t the most attuned to literacy; Circe, I’m surprised that I was even able to read when I arrived at Hogwarts. I can assure you that my Uncle and Aunt weren’t sitting down each night to practice with me. I learnt to read by looking at Vernon’s old copies of the _Daily Mail_ and following recipes in cookbooks.**

**Anyway, I’ve rattled on long enough. Even if I can’t get the big heave-ho from the DMLE, I’m sure that darling old Margaret wouldn’t be too chuffed that I’ve spent the last twenty minutes telling you about my childhood and my romantic woes. She’d scoff in a way that only the very old can get away with, and talk about ‘young wizards today, not knowing the meaning of hard work.’**

**Like I promised, I did take the case notes for August Ernst Wernet’s criminal conviction home over the weekend. I’ve made a couple of what I think are exciting discoveries. The first one is that despite the seriousness of his charge – Murder – Wernet served far less than a year in Azkaban.**

**Now, at first, I didn’t read too much into that. He was, like I said in my previous letter, a pure-blood wizard and such individuals did tend to receive lighter sentences during that period of history. I went to confirm Wernet’s release date with the prison archives and, guess what, Draco? Our chap left Azkaban after just two months! He went back to his family Manor in the Derbyshire Dales – Hartington Hall – where he resided with his parents and their many Elves. There was also a minor female witch living there as well, but I haven’t found out anything about her identity yet. I’ll begin looking into Wernet’s home life tomorrow.**

**Why do you think he was released so quickly, Draco? To me, it stinks of a cover up. Equally, it doesn’t make a sickle of sense that he was convicted here, rather than in Germany. What are your opinions on that?**

**The other interesting discovery is from a witness statement in the file. It seems that Clara’s parents – your ghost has a very pretty name, by the way – greatly disliked our Mr. Wernet. There is a report from an Apotheker – I think that means Apothecary? – of the purchase of several rudimentary hex burn curative potions. Allegedly, Wernet was gravely injured by Clara’s father! There is no evidence that he ever said a word to the German authorities though.**

**The mystery deepens.**

**I have included with my letter a tiny watercolour that I have found in the midst of the file. Is this Clara when she was alive? She had long auburn hair and deep blue eyes. Your ghost was a very beautiful woman in life, Draco. I’ve cast a doubling spell on the picture and kept a copy for myself.**

**It has been a long day of tea drinking and clock watching down here at my homely basement desk and now my colleague is waking. I had better draw my own long letter to a close. I’m going to put down my quill, otherwise I’ll be writing for the rest of the day. I suppose it feels pleasant just to talk to another person who knew me before all that Saviour nonsense.**

**Back when I was simply an insufferable tosser!**

**I await the sight of your magnificent wax seal with bated breath.**

**Your friend,**

**Harry.**

**P.S. I was about to send this up to the Owlery when I realised that I’ve made a grievous mistake. I didn’t tell you about Medea! I’ll confess that she is a high-maintenance pet, brought for me on a whim by Luna Lovegood. She thought that her company would be good for me. Medea is a Persian, with thick white-blond hair that I have to brush regularly, otherwise she gets into a frightful mess.**

**Medea is temperamental – and more than a little spoilt – but I believe she loves me underneath her prickly surface. Those stories about golden chariots driven by dragons do sound enthralling. I’d love to hear them, Draco. I do believe that I’ve never had a story read to me in my life.**

~*~*~*~

_February 14th, 2008_

_Dear Harry,_

_I just can’t help but think that you're making fun of my most honourable title. But before I forget my thoughts, I’m starting out with the business-related matters this time around. Don’t worry about our personal chit-chat; I have questions, Potter._

_So, I’m just holding this watercolour in my hands and Clara swoons over her expensive looks. I would tell her about your kind compliments regarding her appearance and her name, but—and don’t you dare comment on that—she’d most certainly be ludicrously smug about it. She’s very moved to see her living self, though. Thanks for the replica._

_Sounds like the Ministry of the 19th century has been working with the utmost care and effort. Some things just never change, do they?_

_Well, let me get this straight._

_Wernet travelled the continent and ended up in Germany—or whatever this patch of land in central Europe was called at the time—where he bacame acquainted with the von Kellern family. Clara told me that Wernet wasn't staying with them but at his family's property: Golm Manor. Clara may be discreet but there’s no way she didn’t have the hots for this perilous bloke (she calls him her Ernstchen, sweet Circe). He killed her. Then (?) he got attacked by Clara’s father and fled home to England. Would explain why Wernet didn’t dare to press charges against the father. But eventually, Wernet’s past caught up to him and he was arrested by our authorities. This would make sense, right? Wait, why am I doing the detective work, Auror Potter?_

_As a part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, I might have an idea what this could be about. Look: if this war hadn’t happened, I most certainly could not travel the continent and fall in love with some random witch or—Merlin forbid—wizard! (I’m so flabbergasted at the thought that I used an exclamation mark.) This is because, us pure-bloods, we are usually promised to somebody by the mere age of 14. I’d be married to Astoria Greengrass if the Malfoy name hadn’t fallen from grace, did you know that?_

_Apologies, I’m getting side-tracked. What I mean is: It’s very unlikely that Wernet travelled before his parents sealed the deal. Unfortunately, I have no idea how old he was when he spent time here in Golm Manor, and I’m not entirely sure if Clara is a pure-blood, but this thing between them might have been a saucy affair. I’d be lying to say that this wouldn’t spark my interest._

_Enough work for today; I’ll resume writing in the morning._

_I planned to forget about this vexatious affair called Valentine’s Day by dancing the night away in Wizarding Berlin. Went to a bar nearby for a neat, little pre-party. You’ll never guess where I ended up._

_Correct. It’s only two hours later and I’m back at Golm Manor. And I hold you personally responsible for that._

_What in Merlin’s name, Harry? Cookbooks, no bedtime stories, substandard schooling—have you been raised a house-elf? Back in our Hogwarts days you always seemed to be so confident and self-righteous that I was positively certain you must have been spoiled rotten. When I tried to enjoy my night out and about, I couldn’t stop thinking about this._

_So I came back with whisky! Let’s talk about something nice and fun, shall we? Wait a minute, I’ll take a moment to reread your letter again._

_Muggles say the most peculiar things. What in Hecate’s name is ‘rock and roll’ supposed to mean? Last time I saw your crooked grin in the Prophet, you were most certainly not a rock. And as for ‘roll’? Well, I assume, you are capable of making a roll as former Wonder Auror and you always ~~looked~~ were quite fit. With this incredibly unfair Harry-Potter-luck of yours, I bet not even the takeaway food can change that. All the while us ordinary mortals must practise the virtue of self-denial for every gram of fat and work hard for as much as a hint of abs. (Don’t get too excited; my highly intellectual work does nothing for my slender frame.)_

_Trust Harry Potter to surprise you. Criticising Ministry decisions and Auror duties, and not even the fine excuse to shoot out spells and blow things up could make the job fun. Highly intriguing, I must admit. Your secret is safe with me._

_Medea. I like her. I daresay she has the most fabulous hair colour. Yet you’re the one to primp the poor cat—Salazar, help her… How can you brush her fur when you can’t even do as much as comb your own hair properly?_

_Edward is such an endearing child, isn’t he? Of course, only the best for him. Don’t worry, Harry. I only call him Edward to tease him. I’d like to see him more often, but it’s sometimes a little uncomfortable to speak to Andromeda, I admit. And I’m constantly on the move. Have to admit that this domestic lifestyle you’re describing, seeing Teddy, seeing friends—it sounds awfully appealing. I’m glad that you found that, even if it was only on detours._

_Can you believe that Teddy’s Hogwarts education will start next year? Hang on. We’re almost 30. Thirty. XXX. Why do you keep causing me to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown today?_

_Please do tell me about your evening with the Granger-Weasleys, Harry. Don’t tell them—or anyone else—that I said that, but it’s interesting to hear about people you used to know. Sometimes, at least. Life as a clearance expert is so full of ghosts. Sorry, I have no idea where I was going with this._

_The dusted grandfather’s clock just chimed midnight. Happy Valentine’s, Harry, I guess. This is such an indecent question, but how did I not know you were gay? I didn’t dare to pick up on your mention that you aren’t seeing anybody before—thank Mr Odgen for blessing me with the necessary audacity. But I can’t quite believe you’re a bachelor._

_Two more things, then I have to send this letter off before I second-guess and burn it._

_Firstly, I’m genuinely sorry to read about your limp and, again, it feels indecent to ask about it. How bad is it? I knew that you had to resign from diving headfirst into the field, but I have no idea whether you have to suffer through any consequences in everyday life._

_Secondly, the very last sentence of your post scriptum broke me, Potter. Seriously. I’d read to you. Not kidding._

_Your friend,_

_Draco_

~*~*~*~

**February 14th, 2008.**

**My Right Honourable Lord Malfoy,**

**Firstly, a scolding! You’ll have to imagine me using my best Professor McGonagall tone – not a Scottish accent, Oliver Wood will tell you, my attempts at accents are beyond pitiful – but just that strict voice that she used to use from time to time. You know the one, Draco! That voice she used to use that made your heart skip a beat and your stomach drop into your shoes.**

**I’m using that voice.**

**Your owl scared the living daylights out of me last night! There I was, fast asleep, dreaming wonderful dreams about Treacle Tart, and the Chudley Cannons winning the Quidditch League, when your blasted bird commenced scratching and tapping at the window!**

**I got up like a shot and let her in, quickly reliving her of the substantial letter that you’d tied to her poor leg. Even in my half-terrified, half-bemused state I have to admit that I was delighted to see that it was you who had written to me.**

**A letter from my best-loved Ghost Clearance Expert is better than a dozen singing, heart-filled Valentine’s Day cards. I’m fascinated by our little mystery and I promise, I will get onto that in a jiffy. I have new information about Ernst Wernet, Clara and the von Kellern family that I’m eager to share with you.**

**First, however, I have a few questions for you, Draco Malfoy.**

**You confessed that you were shocked by my childhood existence but I’m equally as surprised by some of the things that you said in your reply! Truthfully, I had simply no idea that you were betrothed at only fourteen years, and furthermore that this was apparently the norm? I had pure-blood mates at school; Nev, Ron and Dean, but none of them once mentioned arranged marriages.**

**I mean, I do recollect reading in the paper that your engagement with Astoria had broken off – I was keeping an eye on your career, remember? – but I had no idea that she’d been decided as your wife. Was she your Father's choice? I’m so sorry that you both had to go through that. When I was fourteen, I had no idea about the sort of person I’d eventually be attracted to and I’m quite sure you didn’t either. You were both little more than children.**

**You asked after Hermione and Ron in your letter. Hermione is as frazzled, as busy, and as impressive as she ever was. However, she manages to be a brilliant mum to two small kids as well as being a rising star in the Ministry I’ll never know, but I’d bet you my final galleon that she’ll be Minister for Magic one of these days. I reckon that’s when we’ll finally see the changes to wizarding society that we’re both craving. Sadly, I forgot to ask her about my proliferation of exclamation marks. After the third glass of wine my memories of yesterday evening become a little hazy.**

**As for Ron, he’s become the best dad I know. He left the DMLE to be more present at home and to better support Hermione’s career, which I really admire. He works in the Wheezes now, part time. Whatever you do, keep this under your hat, but I do believe that Ron’s a lot cheerier these days too. A quiet family life suits him.**

**As for Andromeda and Teddy, I genuinely don’t feel like you’d be made to feel unwelcome were you to come over to visit one weekend. I’m sure that he’d never admit it aloud, but Teds worships the ground you walk on. He keeps clippings of the famous ghost clearances you’ve done – especially the Tewkesbury Hall gig! – and tells me at length about your exploits.**

**I liked that term you used, Draco. Endearing. Teddy certainly is endearing. He’s thrilled about the prospect of getting his Hogwarts letter, though Andi told me Teddy’s worried about which House he’ll get sorted into. I’ve told him that it doesn’t matter – that we’ll all love him whatever the Sorting Hat says – but you know what it’s like when you’re eleven. I’m only glad I didn’t know about Hogwarts or the four Houses when I was his age. It would all have worried me immensely.**

**Also, Draco: please don’t fret so much about asking indelicate questions, as you so politely described them! We’re friends now, and my mates are the most important people in my life.**

**I’ve paused in my reply, collected a rather delicious slice of chocolate cake and made myself a cup of tea whilst I reread your letter. There was one line that made me hoot loudly with laughter. ‘You always were quite fit.” I’m afraid that I might have to break an illusion you seem to be holding dearly.**

**Takeaway food has much the same effect as it does on every other mortal and perhaps I neither look(!) or am as fit as I used to be. I’m sorry to disappoint you, Draco, but a deskbound job and the inability to exercise has left me a bit softer through the middle than you’ll remember from my ‘Wonder Auror’ days.**

**My leg got quite mangled when I was cursed but the pain – and limp – are reasonably manageable with a combination of the pain-relief potions and stretches prescribed by my Medi-wizard at St Mungo’s.**

**Don’t worry Draco, my crooked grin is much the same as it ever was, and I use it a fair bit more nowadays too.**

**You, I am sure, are every bit as slender and as noticeable as you ever were, a point which leads rather neatly into another one of your questions.**

**How did you not know I was gay? I’m glad that Mr. Odgen blessed you with the audacity to ask because this was something that I had hoped to talk to you about. I don’t know the answer, Draco.**

**Maybe it’s because, when we knew each other as boys, I didn’t know I was gay myself. Even at school I suppose I wasn’t ‘straight’ as such. I had small crushes on other boys – Oliver Wood for a short time, Cedric Diggory a few years after – but I got it all confused in my head with hero worship. I wanted to BE Oliver and Ced every bit as much as I wanted to kiss them.**

**The truth is I never kissed or went further with a man until I’d broken off my relationship with Ginny. I knew that I loved Gins – part of me still does – but I came to realise what we had together was platonic.**

**She was the sister that I’d always wanted and never had. It took me a long while to understand I was gay. My Uncle was a prejudiced, intolerant man and he hated anything outside of his narrow experience.**

**Vernon used to watch gay people on the television (don’t worry if you don’t know what that is) and say the most appalling slurs about them. I suppose, somewhere along the line, I mixed up my sexual preferences with being magical. I was part of two worlds but I felt – for a very long time – like I didn’t belong in either.**

**Anyway, I digress. I don’t know what you must think of me, nattering away like an old man!**

**The point I was trying to make is that you mustn’t feel embarrassed talking to me.**

**I know we had our run-ins at school but I wasn’t desperately in love with you or anything barmy like that. You said in your last letter that the idea of falling in love with another man makes you feel ‘flabbergasted’ so I presume that you have a girlfriend or a beloved girl whom you haven’t mentioned?**

**You and Pansy always seemed to be the ultimate Slytherin power couple back at Hogwarts, though Ron told me she married Theo Nott? That came as a bolt from the blue. I always envisioned you and Parkinson having a big society wedding! I suppose it’s funny how life can turn out so differently to what you imagine.**

**Merlin, but that’s a lot of reminiscing! I haven’t thought about a lot of these subjects for years, Draco, but I’m glad that I got to talk about them with you. Would you believe that there’s parts of this letter that I’ve never even told Ron or Hermione? There’s something comfortable, even safe, in talking to a person you've known close to twenty years.**

**Now, I suppose that we ought to get down to some actual work before we’re both old. I’ve been, as requested by yours truly, getting on with a bit of actual detective work!**

**Ernst Wernet, like you suggested, did indeed have a betrothal contract. I’ve sent a copy of it over with my letter. At fourteen he was engaged to be married to a Rosemary McCallan.**

**When he broke that contract – and left for mainland Europe – he caused a big stir within pure-blood society. I found several gossip sheets from the time, as well as a copy of the Breach of Contact manuscript created by Rosemary’s father. I’ve sent you both of those as well.**

**Draco, I would hazard a guess that Wernet fell in love with Clara after he arrived in Germany! I wonder, perhaps, if he courted Clara, with the goal that they would ultimately marry? I can’t imagine that outcome would ever have been likely. I get the impression that a broken engagement would have been a serious blotch on Wernet’s reputation, even as far away as Germany is from London. Our Ernst seems to have been a very controversial person. It’s little wonder that Clara’s parents were worried by his presence in their daughter’s life.**

**I suppose I had better go! I’m sure that this letter has taken up more of your day than is decent or proper.**

**I await your owl. I’m sure she’s beginning to like me every bit as much as Medea does. I’ll tempt her with delicious treats and make her love me.**

**Your friend,**

**Harry.**

**P.S. I’ve decided to live up to my supposed-Gryffindor reputation and be brave. I’d like to ask after your Mother. Is she well? I know that she left England after the trials. I never got the chance to properly thank her.**

**I don’t know how aware you are of what happened, Draco, but Narcissa saved my life. I’ve always wanted to write to her, but I’ve never quite dared. If this is a subject that you don’t want to address with me, I completely understand.**

~*~*~*~

_February 17th, 2008_

_Dear Harry,_

_My apologies that it took me a few days—missed me yet? In my two previous attempts to write this letter, I wrote that I was too busy to catch up with you. Well, the truth is that I’ve been stalling. So, Harry, I hope you will bear with me._

_Yes, utterly flabbergasted I was at the idea of falling in love with a wizard. Remember my warning in the first letter? That it’s always a half-in-jest-half-serious-situation with me? With a taste for the worst moments, I might add. Quite frankly, it’s one of those cases. You told me not to be embarrassed so I shall try my best. Merlin, I don’t know how to say this._

_There is no ladylove or betrothed in my life, for I think there is a slight chance that I might quite possibly be not entirely straight._

_Right, so now this is out here on a parchment. I’m absolutely not freaking out. Sweet Salazar, I’m so discarding this letter. Do people know about you? Does the Prophet know, and I missed it? What did Ronald Weasley say?_

_Here’s the thing. I tried to pretend—with me or with you, I can’t be sure—but your kind words made it impossible to lie to you, Harry. I have no idea how I deserve the trust you place in me by talking about your childhood and your romantic preferences, but I’ll try my best to reciprocate it and be honest with you._

_I suppose that our upbringing, even if disparate from one another in many matters, wasn’t quite as different when it comes to tolerance from what you tell me about your uncle. I was raised with precise ideas of what is considered socially acceptable and what mustn’t escape the private sphere of the family or—in case of the question on sexuality—not even my own head._

_I think Pansy knows about it even though I never said it out loud. We were very dear friends back in Hogwarts and ever since I’ve read your letter, Harry, I think I should catch up with her once I’m back in Britain. Without her I honestly wouldn’t have made it through school. We never even did as much as share a kiss, though._

_Okay, I just reread your crushes and I’ve been laughing out loud at the idea of YOU talking about hero-worship and crushes in one breath (well, one sentence). Please don’t take any offense in this, but... What can I say? You’re Harry Potter._

_I had a few crushes in school myself one of which was on poor Theo. I tried to kiss him one night in Mother’s rose garden, right after the start of the summer break 97. We were seventeen that summer, those who would have judged us were far away, imprisoned. Thought I’d felt a moment and a connection there. My mouth ended up on his cheek and no harm was done. He was such a gentleman about it. Didn’t tell a single soul and didn’t make things awkward between us. Guess what I did. I Vanished his notes, worth all his fifth year’s knowledge. Merlin, I’m such an arsehole._

_Well, this is how you ended up reading a whole roll of parchment on how gay I am. Congratulations, Harry._

_Stalling our correspondence for three days—that’s only how long I managed to give you the cold shoulder? I’m getting soft—turns out to be beneficial for our ghostly mystery as well as your regards to my mother. I’ve been corresponding with her some days prior and received her owl in the meanwhile._

_Mother’s brain is like a tome full of pure-blood genealogy records, you must know, and she knows about the Wernets and McCallans, of course. Although she bashfully admitted not to know all the German pure-blood history by heart (I am appalled!). But I finally know for sure that Clara’s family was one hundred percent pure-blood._

_Mother also confirmed all this uproar concerning the Wernet family; their reputation was only rebuilt when someone in their long line of ancestors had a very successful business in house-magic in the 1920s, but whatever (she wrote me about half a roll of parchment on that)._

_It’s very likely that, in love or not, neither Clara’s nor Ernst’s parents would have approved of them waltzing about without a chaperone, let alone considering marriage._

_The Wernet family lived very secluded after our dear Ernst returned to England, according to Mother’s knowledge. There were nasty rumours about blood curses and Squibs and all the other things that pure-bloods like to gossip about as long as they are not the subject of the tittle-tattle themselves. One rumour talked about a creepy girl who was said to be a Squib. Could be utter nonsense but you mentioned that there was a minor documented to have been living with Ernst and his parents._

_Trigger warning, but you started this, Potter: Regarding Mother and you (this sounds awkward)—I’m sure you must be referring to the forest on the night of the battle? I know only half of it, I assume, but Mother told me that you let her know I was alive and up in the castle. It took her two whole years to tell me that simple thing, though she didn’t exactly mention her part of the life-saving-business. Then I told her for the first time that I had almost been consumed by Fiendfyre that night and that you risked your life to save me. Sometimes I think about the possibility that you could have died that night only to save me while the outcome of a raging war was at stake. Don’t have words for this._

_Anyhow. My mother, ever since, is frighteningly fond of you. She was delighted to follow your career in the Prophet (almost as much as you enjoy mine) and aghast when she heard about your injury. Considering that you two haven’t been in touch, your name comes up quite often at the dinner table._

_All right, still trying to do my best in not being embarrassed or joking the truth away: Mother always makes sure to include your name in our rituals for the summer and winter solstices to thank you for your deeds to our family and to ensure your bright future and good health. She also fears that you might be too much of a dreadfully common half-blood to properly celebrate the solstices. Mother will be over the moon when I send your regards. Feel free to owl her; she lives in Le Dramont, France. Please be discreet with her address._

_Let’s pick up on traditions and enlighten you, my dear Harry, on the customs of arranged pure-blood marriages. Do you remember that Ronald and I weren’t exactly the bestest of mates and that I called him a blood-traitor on several occasions? Well, this is not only because, for instance, the Weasleys and the Longbottoms had decided (though not acted upon it) that marrying half-bloods and Muggleborns was acceptable, but also because they have turned their backs on several other traditions. Like arranged marriages. (There’s not even an ounce of pure blood in Dean Thomas, though. Don’t know how you got that idea.)_

_Non-Bloodtraitor-Pure-Bloods still had nice little summer parties to introduce all the possible matches, but ever since the war there’s a trend of having parties that don’t involve betrothal contracts. It was so interesting to see the copy you sent, though._

_I was a highly coveted suitor if I say so myself. Old money, spectacular looks—whyever have you not been ‘desperately in love with me or anything barmy like that’?! I was a dashing young fellow._

_Once the fathers would just have a contract drawn up, but at my time I had a say in the matter. My parents wanted Daphne and I asked them why they would ruin my life by picking a classmate as my future wife. She helped me a lot during my probation and we became friends at the time. Astoria and I were delighted when her parents threw a fit and annulled the contract at some point._

_In my youth it was easy to forget that this world of pure-blood supremacy is a very narrow circle. It hardly ever crossed my mind that there are wix who marry for love. After the trials, even with such mild consequences for me and Mother (not at least thanks to you), I needed to learn a thing or two. I had no idea how to do without thousands of Galleons, house-elves, and the Manor was a mess. Mother was too depressed to stay._

_I’m jumping back and forth, but your letter was just so delightfully long (by the way, have fun replying to this one). I’d feel bad for not picking up on all the things you mentioned. Don’t know when I’ve been last excited about letters, really._

_Anyhow. Clara._

_I’ve been trying to speak to Clara again and I encountered something that even I, as your best-loved Ghost Clearance Expert, have not come to witness as of yet. Clara was floating about in the parlour minding my business when I decided that we’re close enough to have a nice chat. You know, about dying. And you wouldn’t know how much ghosts love to talk about that. So there I was. Ready to listen to an hour of her howling voice, scrupulously describing in archaic French how exactly all the blood splatters ended up on her bosom._

_“Ernst Wernet killed me,” said she and I said, “I know, woman. How?”—“Sir, I can’t be sure. Ernst must have taken the knife.” That’s about all of what she had to say about the whole ordeal. That’s not how ghosts talk about their fondest of memories—embracing death—let me assure you. They usually remember vividly, and they are dying to tell you (ha! please hit me). I’m working on finding out what this is about. Never heard of such a thing._

_I also showed her the copies you sent of the contracts and the sheets. I wanted to enrage her a little, get the blood or whichever spectral substance boiling, you know? I think it was the first time I genuinely felt for her. Just as expected, Clara was enraged that Ernst had been betrothed before they met. But then she saw the scandalous headlines and she said that she wished he wouldn’t have had to go through this, especially not without her. Sometimes I almost forget that the man killed her._

_Another thing that gets me sentimental, admittedly: my heart breaks a little, every time you talk about Teddy. I was oblivious that my little cousin was so fond of me—I thought he’d be such a friendly soul to just anyone. You know him so much better than I do, Harry._

_At the age of ten, Teddy would certainly be able to take pleasure in reading a proper letter rather than just a brief note attached to some toy, right? Would he enjoy hearing about the clearance of Tewkesbury Hall? I don’t even know how much I could tell him, though. Which part of ghost stories are too much to be considered child-friendly? I’m utterly clueless when it comes to children. All I recall is which toys I enjoyed when I was Teddy’s age._

_Or perhaps you could tell the story. Or I try to bring something to paper and you could read it to him. I usually try not to show or tell, but it makes me ridiculously proud that you told me I was brave there. Was probably the peak of my career. (I hope it was; it was somewhat dangerous.)_

_All right Potter. I would’ve spelled my quill to write my incredibly important thoughts down for me but since you complimented my handwriting I just could not. I’m also glad that I made it this far this time and didn’t Incendio the letter. Please don’t be cruel like me and leave me waiting three days._

_Don’t forget to brush Medea properly and treat my owl Orpheus well. May he find you in a waking hour this time. But he will arrive around midday; most probably, the only person he’ll wake is your dear Madam Margaret._

_Yours truly,_

_Lord Malfoy_

_P.S. Why did you hope to talk to me about you being gay?_

~*~*~*~

**February 18th, 2008**

**Lord Draco, most veritable, wise and bountiful,**

**I’ve read your letter straight through already – twice now – and I’m just in the middle of reading it once more. I’ve transfigured the pages to look like boring Ministry reports, just in case Madam Margaret decides to wake.**

**I’m going to spend the afternoon replying to it, the rest of my workload be damned. I have to confess that I’m a little astonished by its contents – happily astonished, I might add! – but astonished, nevertheless.**

**I know you were joking, but the truth is that I did miss your letter when it didn’t arrive the next day. My mates tease me terribly for wearing my heart on my sleeve the way that I do when I like a person – and I do like you, Draco! – but I can’t seem to help myself. I think it was that last year of the War. Hemione, Ron and I were on the run for most of it, and I assure you Draco, living in close quarters the way we three were – half-petrified that we'd be caught by Snatchers – well, it made you honest, and it made you forthright. When everyday felt like it’d be your last you found yourself spilling your secrets quicker than Veritaserum.**

**And, before I go further, I want to say thank you for wearing your heart on your sleeve with me.**

**I could feel how hard each and every one of those words were for you to write down. You do realise, don’t you Draco, just how completely brave you were to come out to me like you did? I know you’ll scoff – call me a daft, sentimental Gryffindor sod – but I don’t care. You were brave. From what you’ve already told me about your childhood, and your life as a young adult, I believe that you were indoctrinated into a pure-blood dogma that was already hundreds of years out of date.**

**Remember what you said a few letters ago, about the Muggles having funny words for things? Well, did you know they have a special celebration day for people like us, Draco: people who might not be entirely straight.**

**They call it Pride. Those Muggles who feel like we do dance, they laugh and they wear rainbows. They do this to celebrate the love they feel for each other, because for so many hundreds of years they were made to feel ashamed and wrong, just like your family – and Vernon – made us both believe, too.**

**I know you’ll make fun of me for saying this, but I think the Muggles are a thousand steps in front of wizard folk. I can’t imagine the day that we’ll have a Pride celebration on Diagon Alley, but you never know, do you? Life is already so changed from the closeted and narrow world it was when we were at Hogwarts. Maybe we’re closer to equality than we think.**

**I’m really glad that you had Pansy when you were growing up. She and I always had quite a tempestuous relationship(!) but looking back, I think most of that might have been because she cared about you so much. I hope you do get back in touch with her. One thing that I know is that I wouldn’t have got through school without my mates.**

**I think that you’ve got some odd ideas about what Hogwarts was like for me, Draco! Most of the time I was just a regular lad, with the requisite crushes and hero-worship that came alongside that. I wasn’t the Saviour twenty-four seven. Really, I was happy enough to be included in the Quidditch, to finally have pals and to occasionally have a bit of a laugh. I assure you, had I have been any kind of choice I would have Incendio’d all that Chosen One nonsense. We were both of us manipulated and controlled by adults that should have cared more, and known better.**

**We both deserved safer, saner childhoods than we had.**

**I’m glad that Theo didn’t mock or hurt you after you kissed him. He always seemed a reasonable sort of wizard to me, though I rarely saw him outside of lessons. Vanishing all of his notes was pretty rotten, Draco, I’ll admit that much to you, but I wouldn’t carry too much guilt about doing it. It wasn’t like any harm was done. Far as I can remember Theo got excellent OWLs and NEWTs didn’t he? Some of the best in our year group?**

**I know that I did something much worse to you, when I was only slightly younger than were then.**

**Something that has been the gigantic monstrous Hippogriff in the room ever since we’ve begun writing these letters. I’m sorry that I hurt you like I did. I should have been expelled that day in the boy's bathroom, Draco, and had I have been anybody else I would have been.**

**I think I’m just going to take a break from writing for a while.**

**My hand is shaking a bit. I’m told my handwriting is incomprehensible at the best of times.**

**~~~**

**Two p.m.**

**I’ve had a bite to eat and I’ve taken a walk in the local park. It helps me sometimes, getting out and getting into the fresh air. I like this time of year. The sky is blue and small green shoots are pushing their way out of the soil. Do you know, when I was really small – before I ever dreamt I’d have magic or be a wizard – I wanted to be a gardener?**

**Winter is finally losing its grip and the sky is clear and somehow fresher than before. There was even a bite to the air.**

**London feels full of potential in these early months of the year. My leg began to ache after I’d walked ten minutes so I made my way back to the office and picked up my quill.**

**Thank you for bearing with me, Draco. I appreciate it. I had several years of mind healing after the end of the War and my Therapist was always keen that when I became overwhelmed – just like before – that I center myself and find positives in the world.**

**I ought to be getting on with work, rather than rambling on about London’s changing seasons. I do get a little lost writing our letters sometimes and forget that we’re working on a case together. I’m afraid that I haven’t advanced the case very much in the last three days but I do have a couple of interesting points to share.**

**Firstly, there was indeed a young girl living at Hartington Hall with Ernst and his parents.**

**I did a little bit of digging about her life and I do believe that Narcissa was absolutely correct that she was born a Squib. Her name was Daisy and, according to the Hogwarts records that I examined, she didn’t receive a magical education. However, that fact on its own means very little. You know as well as I do that a good number of pure-blood witches were kept at home in the 1700s, confined to learning only domestic magic. Daisy didn’t carry the family surname. Indeed, I’m not even sure who Daisy was, and whether she had any bearing on Clara’s story. She might simply be a red herring, as the Muggles confusingly say. Before you ask Draco; no, I’ve no clue where this odd phrase comes from.**

**I can’t find any evidence that Daisy was related to Ernst, other than a note in the census that called her a foundling and a 'ward of Hartington Hall'. She may even have been an illegitimate child of one of the local Muggle families.**

**Secondly, I came into an interesting piece of gossip in the Azkaban prison archive.**

**Ernst was apparently kept away from all the other prisoners, in the relative safety of the Hospital Wing. I’ve found evidence that his parents paid for private Healers to make visits to him, worried as they were about his sanity.**

**According to one document I’ve found he was said to be in “paroxysms of grief” over the death of Clara von Kellern. This chimes with what you’ve told me about Clara’s continued love for Ernst. If the two of them were such soulmates then why did this murder occur? There’s something we’re missing, something obvious.**

**I will continue to examine the files. Tomorrow I’m going to begin looking at the Wizengamot trial transcripts. Do you remember Anthony Goldstein, from school? He was in Ravenclaw. He’s meeting me for coffee and has promised to help me translate some of the more archaic terminology. I’m hoping a fresh pair of eyes will grasp something that I’ve missed.**

**I ought to draw this letter to a close. I’ve spent rather more hours on it than is strictly allowed or is strictly decent.**

**Looking back at your letter, I’m delighted that your Mother had always held me in high regard. She always loved you so enormously, Draco. I will write to her soon and you can be assured that I will be discreet with her address. I suppose, looking back, that I have always imagined Narcissa must have resented me terribly. After all, I represented everything that had ruined her life. Red-coated Aurors like me dragged away her husband, ruined her family name and confiscated her fortune, yet she is open-hearted enough to include my name in your rituals. I feel more touched by that than you can know.**

**Perhaps, if I’m lucky I might even get an invite to Le Dramont? I have very little knowledge of solstice celebrations but that’s okay, because this common half-blood sat here has got you, a very traditional – and a very well-informed! – wizard for a chum now.**

**Perhaps you might be so kind as to teach me some of the wizarding customs that I know so little about? Then, when I invariably make some terrible blunder, I could give you a smirk and tell Narcissa that my instruction on the matter was insufficient. I bet you’d love that.**

**Whilst we’re on the subject of family, I loved your suggestions about Teddy. He would absolutely love to hear about the malevolent Tewkesbury Hall poltergeist – and, appealing to your vanity, how you dispatched it so very bravely – but he’s ten, Draco! He doesn’t want his fuddy-duddy Godfather reading him some great long story like he was stuck in his Junior school classroom. It’d mean an awful lot more if you told him the story yourself and even showed him the famous wand that sent the ghoul packing.**

**You should come over and visit him once you’re back in England. I wouldn’t mind hanging around if you’d like a bit of extra company either. Perhaps we could all Floo over to British Museum after a spot of lunch? There’s a dinosaur exhibition there that I know Teds would adore; some of the bones are really dragon skeletons that the Muggles haven’t classified correctly. It’s just an idea though; you shouldn’t have to feel obliged.**

**That’s quite enough words from me, Draco Malfoy. Your head will be aching by now and the words swimming all over the page. Orpheus (a stunning name – a wizard from Ancient Greece, wasn’t he? See, I did listen during History of Magic!) had been well fed and spoiled by Madam Margaret this afternoon. He’ll fly back to you a very happy owl.**

**I think this letter will arrive with you sometime around six. I hope you’re reading it, with a nice glass of red, in front of your fire.**

**Your friend,**

**Harry**

**P.S. Finally, an answer to the question that I’ve been dancing around since I began writing to you today. Why did I hope to talk to you about being gay? I’ll be truthful. I was horribly worried you’d reject me outright when you knew that I was romantically attracted to men. I thought you might get the wrong idea, based on our long history. Truth is, I did notice you during that final year of Hogwarts we shared. I spent most of my free time trailing around after you if you remember back to that terrible dark time.**

**I wasn’t ‘desperately in love with you or anything balmy like that’ – I was too worried about mine and my friend’s lives to be in love with anyone back then – but you never escaped my notice. You were always at the forefront of my mind.**

~*~*~*~

_February 19th, 2008_

_Dearest Harry,_

_I write to you with excellent news, to wit, I feel back in my own skin again. To my immense relief, reading your letter did not leave me in a state of nervous wreckage on this occasion but rather had me knocking my ink over in an impulsive attempt to flip off your letter in lieu of your obnoxious self. With my utmost grace, of course, and not without instantaneously reversing the damage._

_I’ll gladly refer to your apt description of McGonagall’s tone at this point: Teddy. You say ‘ten’ like he’s about to finish his NEWTs next year! Have you ever realised how ridiculously tiny ten-year-olds are? As far as I’m concerned, eleven is much too young of an age for small children to attend this perilous school of exploding cauldrons and backfiring hexes! Alone for safety reasons I shall better be joining this Muggle trip you’re planning, Potter. One must ensure that you’re not accidentally taking young Edward to pet and mount live specimens of these dragons you mentioned._

_Now that my reasonable indignation is written down, I take some inspiration from you and enjoy a glass of the finest wine I managed to find in the nearest Muggle shop—which was a dreadful experience, this weird toy-paper-money! Salazar, give me strength—and it had me wonder. Do you even drink wine? To me you look quite like the wizard who asks the sommelier to serve him a pint. Which in turn reminds me that I should try some beer while I’m in Germany._

_Yet another inspiration: I will take a walk tomorrow. After reading your, admittedly, beautiful description of the park and the weather, I came to the realisation that I’ve been spending too many days inside, interrupted only very briefly for my unfruitful attempt to enjoy myself on a night out. For all I know, there are lots of lakes and forests nearby, and the Manor is close to the Havel River. I’m not sure why this sounds more appealing than a club in Berlin, but it does right now._

_Now, let me focus on our case for a while before the wine plays tricks on me._

_Again, I’ve been talking to Clara. What else would I do, except getting rid of the ghoul in the attic (done); Vanishing all the hunting trophies ranging from ordinary stags to Hippogriff heads (done); or finally figuring out that it was a Bogart that I’ve heard trapped behind a wall all the time. This house holds much more creatures that I’m used to. Usually most of my work revolves around cursed objects, wards and some house-magic._

_But anyway, Clara. I told her to keep still so I might look at her fatal injury. She was talking about a knife the day before but there’s no such thing as a wound on her. So I asked her about it again. I wanted to know why the blasted wizard bothered with a knife like a bloody Muggle and if so, why there was no wound on her body. Not even her chemise dress is ripped. There’s blood all over the place, but no wound whatsoever._

_Clara said that her parents would know all about it. Apparently, they either found her body or witnessed her death, I can’t be sure._

_Just now I asked her if she knew someone named Daisy. First she wasn’t impressed at all and continued her rant about the disconcerting lack of prestige in the trophy room now that the Hippogriffs are gone (I think Clara was secretly charmed by their judging looks, think she talked to them before I got here). Then, however, she stopped dead and repeated the name Daisy. Then she asked: “Gänseblümchen?” She must’ve spotted my annoyance because she stuttered and then asked “Pâquerette?” which, of course, means daisy as in the flower, bellis perennis._

_Now. Brace yourself, Potter, you little sap. Clara smiled and said that, once, she was spending a sunny afternoon taking an extensive walk along a lake near her family home. She had started picking up twigs and hands full of grass and some flowers just for the mere pleasure of it and along came Ernst. Clara had felt dreadfully ashamed of her childish nonsense, but Ernst gallantly asked whether he might accompany her. She thought he only wanted to come along for the walk, but the fellow started picking daisies with her. Clara says that it’s her favourite flower for it is everything but the expansive flower bouquets her parents had in the house. Decent and humble just like her Ernstchen. She also showed me the daisies on her bonnet._

_I have three ideas about this. Firstly, this could be a very random incident. They happen all the time and Daisy is not exactly an uncommon name._

_Secondly, this could mean that Ernst regretted everything and tried to redeem himself by taking onto a poor soul, naming her Daisy in remembrance of his tragic affair._

_Third idea is, once again, inspired by your letter and might catch you a little off-guard. Sorry about that. But: I’ve been thinking that maybe the murder could have been an accident. I don’t know how, but I do know that these kinds of things can happen, even if someone means no harm at all. Clara is such a stubborn, annoying, skittish cow that I could easily imagine heated arguments between them, soulmates or not. Perhaps she even provoked Ernst and things have just gotten out of control._

_Well, I planned to drop the subject with just this, but you seemed to be so beside yourself about the Sectumsempra that I find myself unable to. You might or might not be right about being expelled. Hogwarts authorities belong in that category you’ve been mentioning, of ‘adults that should have cared more, and known better’. Many things happened in this school without many consequences except for detention._

_Please don’t beat yourself up over it, Harry. I have done things in this same school year which were so much worse. Maybe that day could even have ended differently when it hadn’t been for my hurt pride. You have no idea how much I hated it that you saw me like this. While I was in the hospital wing, I’ve been brooding more about the fact that you saw me crying than the curse wounds on my torso._

_Regarding your P.S.—and believe me, I’d like to keep our equally fascinating and disconcerting post-thoughts right there, but not this time—let me summarise: You didn’t want me to get the wrong idea about you being bent and all. Yet you said you noticed me, whatever that’s supposed to mean. And yet again! You imply that there would have been a possibility of you being ‘desperately in love with me or anything balmy like that’ if only the circumstances would have been different?_

_Out with it, Potter, once and for all! Did you or did you not have a crush on me? Be blunt with me in that matter, I beg you. I know that sixth year is like a lifetime ago but I’m dying to know._

_Here, have my leap of faith: I had a crush on someone in fourth year. He looked extraordinarily fit on a broom and I couldn’t get my eyes off him when I saw him swimming in the Great Lake once. I bullied him so much, more out of self-loathing than anything else. My absolute low point in this career as a bully was designing and handing out badges that disgraced his name. I told you, I was such an arsehole!_

_On a last note I want to catch up right there. This crush on you (yes you! I’m sure you had no idea!) was smashed right after this year and I write this not to explain why I hated you in fifth year, but to explain about Mother. She resented you with all her heart when your (reasonable) accusation after the tournament ended with Father being imprisoned. But later this irritation was directed rather at the whole circumstances than towards you. It was not only but mostly Father who had been responsible for the fact that You-Know-Who moved in. And that I took the Dark Mark. Mother said that she would never be able to forgive that._

_So right after the war, she had kind of forgotten about you. It was only when she found out about the whole Fiendfyre incident that she suddenly started to worship you. I think she might be quite fond of me. All she ever did was for me. Since you’ve been mentioning it, I’m sure you’d be very welcome in Le Dramont. Be warned, it’s very posh, but there’s also beautiful nature and it’s right at the sea. Maybe we could visit together sometime. I’m sure I could make things less (more) awkward when you really want to meet Mother._

_I feel like I forgot something… Well. I’ll go to bed and send the letter in the morning._

_Yours,_

_Draco_

_P.S. Good morning, good sir! Just wanted to add that this Pride thing with a capital P you’ve been mentioning sounds like such a Muggle thing to do. What do rainbows have to do with anything? It’s so random. How does one find such festivities?_

_Reread both our letters, P.S. II_

_I can’t wait to find out about the transcripts of the Wizengamot trial. Feel free to tell me about your date with this Goldstein fellow. If he’s anything like he was in school, he will hardly be of any help, though. Hope he’ll add at least some visual appeal to the proceedings of working through the records._

~*~*~*~

**February 20th, 2008.**

**My dearest Lord Malfoy, he who is most flaxen-haired, lofty and steely-eyed,**

**Good afternoon Draco!**

**I’ve got a confession for you, my huffish pal. I didn’t actually make up that title.**

**I pinched it from the romance novel that I’m currently ploughing through, called _The Aristocrat and the Serving Lad_. I thought it seemed pretty fitting. **

**I promise you that the description of the aristocrat, Lord Falmoy, is entirely coincidental. Don’t you go spending the rest of the day grinding away under the impression that I spend all my life reading sexy novels either. This one just happened to fall into my hands at Flourish and Blotts. It seemed a little rude to put it back on the shelf.**

**There you go. You’ve been forced to read a whole humiliating paragraph all about my penchant for Regency fiction. If you’re not at least grinning now then I’ve failed as a friend. I’m going to hope that my usual charm is working, at least a tiny bit.**

**Draco, whatever did I say that sent you back to your previous prickly self?**

**I mean, I know that I can be quite the oblivious chap on occasion – yes, I know what people say about me, as thick as a cauldron’s hide, – but I simply can’t understand what I did to raise your ire. That last letter was positively glacial in places!**

**I’m back to ‘Potter’ now? Being the top-notch detective that I am, I’ve decided to look at some evidence in regards to your letter. I think you drank rather more of that Muggle wine while you were writing than you’d readily admit. Your handwriting was certainly a bit looser towards the end!**

**And yes, I suppose I am the sort of wizard that asks a sommelier for a pint. Would you believe that I had left Hogwarts before I realised that wine didn’t simply come in red or white? Please don’t judge me! Unlike another person in this friendship, I didn’t grow up in a house with a wine cellar. Perhaps you even make your own wine on your French Estate?**

**I looked up Le Dramont on the map. It’s prime vineyard county. Maybe we should give up chasing ghosts, Draco and head to France instead. We could set up our own wine label. Enchanted Elixir, or even Wixen Wines?**

**You could do the talking, with that posh voice of yours and I could do the digging. I could finally be that gardener I imagined I’d be when I was five.**

**Merlin, it’s not like this job is the most inspiring. Ernst, Clara and the mystery of little Daisy have been the most excitement that I’ve seen in weeks. They’ve made coming into this drab little office – and eating Madam Margaret’s admittedly excellent cake – something to look forward to.**

**That, and your letters, Draco. They’ve been something worth getting up for.**

**There’s a lot that I want to say during this letter. I’m buzzing with the anticipation of sharing it all with you.**

**~~~**

**I’m going to start with the hot date that I shared with Anthony Goldstein, my Ravenclaw beau. He certainly did have some ‘visual appeal’ during our shared coffee – those olive eyes of his are to die for – but I very much doubt that his lovely wife and four children would be very impressed were we to have shared anything untoward!**

**Tony is as straight as a wand and always has been. The two of us have been friends forever, back since we were the Order together. He’s just a mate, Draco. Nothing else. I was right though! Those olive eyes of Goldstein’s did see something that I’d never have understood, not even if I were to have looked at those transcripts for a dozen years.**

**Draco, we’ve misunderstood something about Clara's story since the very beginning! You were right in your last letter. Ernst didn’t murder Clara.**

**Get this.**

**Tony is a Professor of Magical History and – I didn’t know this – apparently it was a criminal offence in the 1700s to despoil a pure-blood lineage? Godric, but you pure-bloods have always been an odd bunch! That was the offence that triggered his Wizengamot trial.**

**Ernst was found guilty of causing Clara’s death but, Tony says, it wasn’t a deliberate murder. It was closer to what the Muggles call ‘manslaughter.’ How did Goldstein put it? It was Ernst’s reckless behaviour – and his disregard of Clara’s so-called pure bloodline – that got him sent to prison.**

**I think the key to our mystery – and the key that will unlock Clara’s locked door – is Daisy, the little Squib girl that had such a cosseted life at Hartington Hall.**

**Remember what you said, just a couple of letters ago? Narcissa told us the answer and we didn’t ever realise it! I’ll quote back to you what she said: “there were nasty rumours about blood curses and Squibs and all the other things that pure-bloods like to gossip about as long as they are not the subject of tittle-tattle themselves.”**

**I think Daisy was the result of Ernst and Clara’s ‘reckless behaviour,’ Draco! You said it yourself. She hasn’t a mark on her body and yet she refuses to talk about how she died.**

**It all fits together perfectly! We know that both parties were desperately and ardently in love. We know that they would have struggled to be together because of Ernst’s broken betrothal and his inferior reputation. Moreover, we also know that Clara’s parents were prone to violence. We have the Apothecary’s evidence that proves it.**

**This is just a hypothesis, but perhaps those parents were equally as vicious with your heartbroken ghost, except using magic?**

**I can’t believe that we didn’t see this before! It’s not as if I don’t understand the pernicious wickedness of dark magic. I think Clara’s parents cast some evil onto their daughter when she revealed she was pregnant with Daisy. They cast some horrific curse that took Clara’s life. I think it was supposed to do the same to Daisy as well. It didn’t though, did it?**

**Daisy lived.**

**Draco, I think she lived because Clara loved her, loved her even before she was born.**

**That’s how it was with my own Mum. Her love was enough to save my life, when Voldemort cast an Unspeakable on me when I was naught but a baby. I think it was Clara’s love that saved Daisy’s life, even if it left her with a lifetime without magic.**

**Daisies mean something special to Clara, don't they? They're the only things that got her speaking to you, aren't they? I think Ernst and Clara were reckless. They defied their upbringings and all of their society's expectations to be together, didn’t they?**

**We can both imagine how aghast polite pure-bood society would have been with Ernst, if he indeed impregnated an upper class young lady without marrying her first. Doubtlessly, public opinion would have been behind the parents and he would have been seen as the criminal party.**

**Two months in Azkaban would have been seen as justified, even righteous. Frankly. I'm surprised that he got that little.**

**See, Draco? I deserved that reputation as a ‘wonder Auror’. I used to be pretty bloody brilliant at my job and I can feel how close we are to solving Clara’s story.**

**The question is, what are you going to do next? Are you going to ask your ghost directly? I imagine that she’d find the truth distressing, even devastating. Myself, I’m going to Floo to Derbyshire early tomorrow and visit Hartington Hall. I want to discover everything I can about Daisy’s life.**

**~~~**

**I left this letter for a while. I had to think about what I wanted to say, because it’s crucial that I get what I say next right.**

**Part of me wanted to run it straight up to the Owlery, get it flying over to Germany, but I couldn’t. There was so much in your letter that I’ve yet to address.**

**There were so many revelations in your letter – and yes, Draco, I’m intending to go through those, word for word – but first I want to take issue with you telling me off about Teddy.**

**I guffawed aloud when I read your fantastic version of our very sedate family date to London! Have you ever actually visited a Muggle museum? I assure you that dragon riding is hardly the order of the day.**

**Instead, we’ll have a slow-moving walk around the exhibits (and it’ll have to be slow-moving if I’m with you. You and Teddy will have finished the place before I’m out of the first room) and then, maybe, we’ll take Teddy out for an ice-cream. I adored my rare trips to Fortescue’s when I was a youngster. Did you? There’ll be no mounting dragons, or any other magical creature I promise. They’ll be no risks of any sort.**

**Moreover, I think Teddy will be perfectly ready to go to Hogwarts when his letter comes. I remember your first flying lesson, Draco! You knew your way around a broom well enough. ‘Perilous school of exploding cauldrons’: I recollect that you were much more of a risk-taker than your letter admits to! Perhaps we should get our brooms out, and teach Teddy a few of the basics before he leaves. I’m not sure how long I’d manage but I bet you’d be as proficient in the air as ever.**

**I bet I could wheedle Andi into letting us do it. While we’re on the subject of Teddy, our shared blue-haired sweetheart will love hearing about the Bogarts, ghouls and hippogriff heads of Golm Hall when we eventually travel to London.**

**Me though? I’m more interested in those lakes and forests that you’re intending to explore over the next few days. There’s nothing better than a thick jumper, a warming charm and good company while you take in the wilderness. Truthfully, I think that’s been half my problem with the various chaps I’ve tried to date. Most of them were far too excited about smoky clubs, dank pubs and courting gossip than they were with merely taking a walk with me or holding my hand. That's all I've ever wanted, really.**

**All right, I need to be brave now. I read everything that you wrote in your letter about fancying me in fifth year and hating me in sixth year. I’ve thought a lot about the way that we both treated each other back then. We didn’t have the opportunity to be anything more than the enemies we became. That was our fate. Those were the roles that were set in stone for us to follow. We never had a choice.**

**And yet, like I said in my last letter, you were never far from my mind. That year I followed you obsessively, trailed you and examined your motives from every perspective. You ask if there would have been a possibility of my having a crush on you if things had been different and you know what?**

**I just don’t know.**

**Things weren’t different, were they? Not back then. There were many times where I hated you, Draco. I was frightened out of my wits during those two years at school, and you stood for everything that was trying to kill me.**

**You have to understand that your own Father’s plotting already had me close to losing my life on more than one occasion, and as far as I knew, you were nothing but his spokesperson.**

**You looked like Lucius, you spouted his opinions, word for word, and you even broke my nose in his defense! I couldn’t see into your mind, Draco even a glimpse. I’m a rotten Legilimens – still am, even now – and your mind was locked as tight as a Colloportus. You’re an excellent Occlumens, still one of the best that I’ve ever encountered. I couldn’t see anything except the evidence that was before my eyes.**

**We can’t go back in time; Draco and I don’t want to either. I like being nearly thirty, I like helping to raise Teddy and I like seeing my friends. I really like you as well. I like what we’ve found in these letters. You aren’t the same person that you were in Hogwarts and neither am I, not anymore.**

**If you’re willing to let the past stay back where it belongs, then I am too.**

**What I suppose I’m trying to say – and have been doing, over all these letters – in a hideously convoluted and embarrassing manner, is ask whether you’d like to come out with me on a date? Sometime in the future, when we’ve solved the mystery of Clara, Ernst and Daisy.**

**Now, before you remind me, I know I’m not the greatest catch in wizarding England. I’m a paper-pushing clerk, with poor eyesight, limp, and gruesomely old-fashioned clothes but I think we could have something together. Something that could grow into something really wonderful, Draco, if you would only be willing to give us a chance.**

**Just think about it. That’s all I ask.**

**Your friend,**

**Harry xxx**

~*~*~*~

_February 21st, 2008_

_Dear Harry,_

_I am very pleased; the way you address my humble self with utmost accuracy and proper respect is more than adequate. Please imagine my most posh and antiquated voice when you read this letter. Hope that’ll tickle your fancy, maybe even more so than your saucy bodice ripper since—I’ll gladly remind you—there’s more to me than written words. Your little anecdote is highly charming and grin-inducing indeed._

_I wanted to stall this a little longer, but I can. not. do. it. When I asked about your supposed crush on me and I told you about mine, never would I have guessed I’d bring you to ask me on a proper date. ‘hideously convoluted and embarrassing manner’—are you speaking about you or me here? Because you’re not the only one dancing around things here, Potter. Harry. I seriously can’t decide what to call you. Your given name and your surname both look awfully appealing in my script._

_I don’t want to keep you in suspense any longer than necessary, so: a date? Absolutely yes. I usually don’t do dates and I’m most certainly horrible at it. Which I might prove at the end of this letter. But let’s try to be professional and devote our attention to this fortunately unfortunate case that started our correspondence, shall we?_

_You truly are a Wonder Auror, Harry, and I do say that without envy. I know that I haven’t thanked you before. I usually don’t thank people on business-related matters; they are just doing their job, for Salazar’s sweet sake. Not you, though, Harry. I asked for records about Wernet’s stay in Azkaban and you threw yourself into this with so much more dedication than anyone else would have been ready to offer. Wait a second, you surely did not put so much effort into the case to score a date with me, did you? (There are only wrong answers to this question, Potter, don’t bother with it.) Anyhow. I couldn’t have done my job properly without all your effort. You will most certainly love what I discovered thanks to your findings._

_It wasn’t easy to persuade Clara into telling me the correct wand movement and the incantation that let me enter the room, but I reminded her of agreement, and she couldn’t deny that I did find out about Ernst’s sentence. From my understanding the room looks out to the morning-to-midday-sun, so I was certain to find a parlour, perfectly placed for elevenses. I also believed that, since it’s been locked thoroughly, I would find another week worth of Identifying Charms and Curse-Breaking in there._

_But it’s a nursery. A perfectly furnished, carefully charmed, and one-hundred-percent-dark-magic-free nursery. There’s a walnut cot with embroidered curtains hanging from a baldachin, a rocking-hippogriff, a painting of wood critters and two young children that one might deem as rather creepy today, as well as some antiquated dolls (that one might most certainly deem as rather creepy today)._

_You were positively right about Daisy being Clara’s and Ernst’s offspring. To be honest, I couldn’t quite believe it, for the sheer scandal that must’ve been at the time. You wouldn’t exactly be imprisoned for such a thing today, obviously; still, you’d be probably shunned from all the nice pure-blood festivities for a lifetime. Believe me, to some that’s an enough disconcerting thought to have second guesses about their love life._

_Clara saw the room—apparently it was well-warded. You can only enter it through this door, even as a ghost—and finally mentioned a detail, the woman should have told me much earlier. She didn’t tell me about what she thought about how she’d died, but her parents told her how it supposedly happened. And, let me assure you, pure-blood parents will tell you only so much about the truth when their reputation is at stake. I seriously can’t wait to tell Mother all about it. Know what she will be? Flabbergasted!_

_There isn’t much information about the von Kellern family at hand in this house which is no surprise really. I only found an ancient family tree that’s probably not complete. But Clara was clear without ambiguity that her parents “can go and jump into the lake” if it’s really true that they had lied to her. About two things: About the love of her life being her murderer. And about her new-born being wounded beyond hope in the ordeal._

_I can only imagine that the parents really did curse the poor woman to ensure this pregnancy would be doomed from the start. I pondered whether I should visit the archives in the German Ministry for Magic today to find out about the parents, but this could be a high-risk proposition. Stirring up the differences with her parents might enrage Clara, and we want her to make peace with her past. So, I’m sorry, Potter, but I have to be a little Slytherin about it. Your explanation about a parent’s curse and a mother’s love makes sense, but I won’t dig for proof of it._

_Instead, I’m hoping that you will find out more about Daisy’s life in Hartington Hall. Clara is sure that the child must have either died or that Ernst must’ve abandoned her. From what you’ve found out so far, neither is the case, fortunately. By experience I’d suppose that Clara will need proof of the truth in order to embrace a non-corporal afterlife and be unbound from this house._

_I just remembered what you told me about Ernst’s imprisonment, that he was in ‘paroxysms of grief’ at times. Having just lost his love, not being able to care for his infant. Merlin. Most of the time, the ghost stories I encounter stay just that to me: stories. But for some reason I really felt for the man when I thought about the records you cited. It sounds ludicrously mundane, doesn’t it? Paroxysms of grief. Sometimes I feel like there are things which shouldn’t be placed into a neat little drawer by putting a word on them._

_Speaking of Azkaban, I want to mention one of the things that’s been prominent for me all the time but I mentioned it only casually if at all. Father. I don’t know how to tell you (and maybe this is one of the things I should see a Mind Healer about, you mentioned you’ve been seeing one), but it’s very hard for me to say anything at all about him. He’s still imprisoned, Mother and he are officially still Bonded. And every time I remember one of the occasions I’ve been stepping deeper and deeper into his footsteps, I feel like I’m about to throw up._

_Whenever I’m thinking about the things that happened right before the war, I think of Father and how blissfully unaware I was of his machinations. Before the war Father was like almighty Merlin himself to me. I thought of it as incredibly unjust when he was imprisoned after this incident in the Department of Mysteries. I was even happy when I heard about his outbreak and knew that he’d arrive any day. But everything that happened after that? I can’t put into words how stupid I feel. I’ve been so blissfully unaware of his machinations before everything went downhill. Sure: you mentioned that we were but children, yet still…_

_And once I started to question Father, I was so disappointed and scared, Harry. Breaking your nose seemed like a righteous idea at that moment. I was so furious that, again, you somehow inserted your arse right into my personal matters. I’m so sorry about your nose, Harry, but I’m even more sorry that I stunned you and left you there, alone and invisible. You wouldn’t imagine how relieved I was when you showed up in the Great Hall that night. Gave me nightmares for weeks._

_We should talk about that when we see each other. Or at least try to talk about it. Some part of me still thinks we might start to shoot hexes at each other’s faces once we meet. Don’t worry, I know that’s not going to happen. The thought is just there, you know._

_~~~_

_It’s in the afternoon now and I hope that I finish this letter soon so that Orpheus won’t disturb your goodnight’s sleep. There are still some things to say, though. Especially since—I’m glad that you pointed that out—I have indeed quite some expertise in Occlumency. A tendency to use it in the worst possible moment, one might say. I wouldn’t do so on purpose, but I can’t promise you to be as amenable in person as I (hopefully) am in our correspondence. I found it surprisingly easy to sit down, take my quill, and open up to you. I believe there’s no person who knows only half the things you know about me from only these few letters._

_The things you’ve been talking about, going to a Muggle museum with Teddy, wine, France—and I’m trying to be awfully honest again, Harry; I wouldn’t say that out loud if my life depended on it—it makes something in my chest clench. And I might add this feeling to the list of emotions I wouldn’t want to put a name on. I haven’t been as torn between hope and want and fear ever, I think._

_Only a week ago when I entertained a vague reverie about writing ‘Oh, by the way, Harry, I’m gay. You are not looking for a date, by any chance?’, my thoughts started spiraling. If we are seen together, whether we have an ice cream with Teddy at Fortescue's as friends or whether we’d snog each other senseless right in front of Rita Skeeter—people will bloody talk. I can’t deny that I’m a bit worried about that._

_But for all I know, I can’t wait to call you a plebeian Londoner when you order that pint, and I can’t wait to hear your laughter when you realise just how lost and awkward I really am around a certain ten-year-old and Muggle culture. And I’m so much more desperate to experience all of this than I could worry about my reputation in a lifetime._

_Thinking about the ghost clearance, remembering just so many charming and thoughtful things you’ve said, and re-evaluating some pure-blood concepts I had not properly thought about in ages—these are only a few of the things that have been running through my head whilst discovering the nature surrounding Golm Manor. And I must admit that I should’ve done so much earlier. There are rows and rows of lanky pines and some alders in between, lakes that flow away into a calm river before you even know it. The waters are really striking; you can’t tell where one starts and the other ends._

_What can I say? When I walked this piece of earth, I found myself thinking about you all the time. Would Harry like this view, does he know how to skip rocks (without wandless magic, you little cheat), would he be so reckless and go for a swim in a lake full of algae and pine needles in summertime, how do I properly tell him about the ridiculously high degree of fluffiness of this squirrel’s tail—you get the idea. I’m beyond hope, Potter._

_And because I’m such an utter nutcase for you, I have a suggestion. I don’t know how long it will take, but I’m sure you’ll work as efficiently as ever: When you managed to find out more about Daisy’s life, and preferably Ernst’s too—would you like to Portkey over here to Germany?_

_Obviously, this is entirely business-related. I demand that you bring your Auror robes, so that Clara will know she’s listening to the results of an investigation led by serious authorities rather than a dishevelled clerk who most likely wears a Weasley jumper to work._

_And then, since you’d be here anyway, we would venture out into the forest. To a lakeside, instead of deep into the wilderness of the woods. To be exact, we would have a leisurely stroll, starting from the garden of the manor, down to the river, and further upstream._

_Somewhere along the way our fingers might brush and—just like with that book that happened to fall into your hands—it’d simply be rude not to take your hand in mine. We would reach a beautiful lake then that’s surrounded by forest without even the slightest hint of civilisation when you look across the water. 8-to-16-minutes walks between the benches along the way (don’t worry, I have not been sprinting to get an idea of the temporal distance). And by the way, as the pampered prince that I am, I’m highly skilled with Cushioning Charms._

_So, what do you say, Harry?? This was sickeningly romantic, but it’s your fault, really. You make me think these things and now you even coaxed me to perpetuate them in this piece of parchment. I hope that you find out more about Daisy as fast as possible and I dare hope that you are inclined to come. But please, for the love of Circe, answer this letter and don’t do anything as boorish as showing up at Golm Manor tomorrow morning. I will need to talk to Clara and give her some hope. She’s in an odd mood and hasn’t come to terms with the possibility that her child could have lived after all. I think she’s too scared to hope for it._

_Yours,_

_Draco_

~*~*~*~

**February 22nd, 2008.**

**Morning.**

**My dearest Draco,**

**I’m sorry. I couldn’t write you another title today. Truthfully, I can barely hold my quill or even sit still to write this answer. I hope that you can at least read my scrawl. My heart is racing and I’m trembling Draco, I’m actually trembling.**

**Yes! I want to come to Germany. I want to see you, and speak to you, be in your company. I know our words have raced ahead of ourselves but I’m ready to be brave. I’ve already sent my owl to the International Portkey office to ask when I can book to see you. My hope was for this coming weekend. I’ve got plenty of leave squirreled away and I’m not sure that I’ll be missed from my basement office. Madam Margaret will have to force her delicious cakes and biscuits onto another eager target for a brief while.**

**Don’t worry. While I’m impatient to see you, I wouldn’t ever arrive without a sheaf of evidence about Daisy’s life. Please don’t fret, I’ve already got plenty to share with you, and with Clara too.**

**I’m in the process of assembling the final few facts from the Derbyshire Magic Archives and from Hartington Hall too.**

**You won’t be disappointed, Draco. I really, genuinely believe that Clara will be able to embrace her non-corporeal afterlife once we have shared our findings with her. I shall dust off my red wooly Auror uniform for the occasion, too. Have you been spying on me, Draco Malfoy? I happen to be wearing my preferred Weasley jumper right now – the one with holes in the elbow and a fraying cuff – as well as dreadfully faded jeans. Merlin, I hope this doesn’t put you off. I do polish up beautifully when I make a bit of an effort.**

**Draco, please don’t laugh, but when you told me about the garden of Golm Manor, the lake and the wilderness of the woods I felt tingly all over. I assure you that I do know how to skip rocks without magic – though my clumsiness has precluded me from getting much above two skips – and Merlin, yes! I love swimming. I’d be the first in that lake, Draco, and I’d be pulling you along behind me. A couple of protective charms would shield us from the worst of the pine needles, I’m sure of it.**

**Maybe I’m an incurable romantic but somehow, I could see everything you were describing in your letter. It was as clear as if I’d been stood there with you beside me. I could feel the warmth of your fingers knitting with mine. I could even envisage the small puffs of air that we’d see, as we walked along in the February cold. Perhaps, when we’re sat together, resting on those benches – and yes, one of your Cushioning Charms sounds delightful – you might even permit me to kiss you? To tell the truth, I’m not the most experienced at courting so you might have to bear with me. I assure you; I will be a perfect gentleman.**

**You’re right, of course. When we return to London people will talk. I’m sure that our beloved _Prophet_ will bring up all our greatest moments, both together and apart, and I’m sure that the headlines will be as revolting as ever. I don’t care about that though. The journalists will soon run out of steam – there’ll be another Quidditch star getting into a duel, or another squabble at the Ministry – and then they’ll move on to other things. I know for a fact that all the people I care about – my friends, Teddy, Andromeda will be accepting of whatever our relationship ends up looking like, and I have high hopes on that score, Draco. I truly do.**

**I can’t wait to smile at you, and call you a fancy git when you order Moet or some other extravagant drink. I can’t wait to show you all the amazing parts of London that you’ve never experienced before. I want to take you on the London Eye. You don’t go as high as on a broomstick, of course, but the views are fantastic. As for Teddy, I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about. While I’m sure that you’ll feel a little out of your depth with him at first, he’ll soon have you chortling. His impressions are first class, which I suppose is part and parcel of being half-Metamorphmagus. I’ll let you into a tiny secret- don’t you dare say anything – sometimes he colours his hair blond to look like you.**

**One thing that I’m sure of, Draco, is that we won’t start shooting hexes at each other the moment that we see each other once again. I can pretty much guarantee that.**

**For one thing, I haven’t cast any defensive magic since I was hit by my curse – and I hope to keep it that way forever, – but secondly, I think I’ve just become too fond of you. As for talking about the past, I’m up for that. I don’t want there to be any mysteries between us. My therapist taught me that. Unhappiness festers when people keep secrets. I’m sorry about your Father. I know that he was the center of your world when you were a younger man and feelings of love and respect can’t be ended with the straightforward flick of a wand.**

**Clara and Ernst have opened my eyes to just how narrow and sheltered your life must have been. You accepted without question the idea that you’d have an arranged marriage and that your true sexual preferences must always remain locked in your heart. How do I know, Draco, that had circumstances been different for me I wouldn’t have reacted in exactly the same way? I don’t know, and never will. All we can do is strive to do better ourselves and the lives of the people that we care about.**

**We are all of us a work in progress, but if we love enough then I think we’ll do okay.**

**And another thing. Please don’t worry about appearing cold or less talkative in person, Draco. We’ve rushed ahead of ourselves in these letters and I’m aware that actually getting to know each other in person might take a little longer. That’s okay though. We’ve all the time in the world to get to know one another better.**

**I’m going to pause writing my letter now. Please forgive my handwriting. I’ll write against this afternoon when I’m calmer. I hope to finally help you lay Clara’s turbulent soul to rest and let her become unbound from Golm House forever.**

~~~

> Statement of facts about Daisy Eloise McFee.
> 
> Born: December 1816
> 
> Died: May 12th, 1876
> 
> All the evidence that the author has unearthed about the life of Daisy McFee (her married name) points to the above-named individual having a very full and a very happy life. 
> 
> The subject of this report reached a very respectable age of sixty, was married for nearly forty years and was the mother of three children.
> 
> Her descendants, entirely unaware of their magical forbearers, still live in the Midlands area of England.
> 
> Daisy was the illegitimate daughter of August Ernst Wernet and Clara von Kellern. Evidence points to their relationship being a love-match, rather than the pure-blood arranged marriage that would have been the norm at the time. Wernet had been partaking of a Grand Tour of the Continent, aged eighteen, when he met Clara von Kellern.
> 
> The circumstances of this first meeting are lost to time, but it is likely that Wernet wouldn’t have been very welcome in the von Kellern family circles. Wernet already had a broken engagement in England, a fact that would have left him a pariah within contemporary society.
> 
> However, their love endured. It seems that Clara von Kellern ran away to be with her beloved.
> 
> Daisy Eloise was the result of their union. The von Kellen family were aghast with this turn of events and it is likely – though still unproven – that they took measures to rid their family name of the disgrace that they believed had befallen it. Dark magic likely condemned Clara to death during childbirth and the author surmises that Daisy was supposed to have suffered an equally dire fate. The fact that she did not is likely because of the powerful love that Clara had for her then still unborn child.
> 
> D. Malfoy, colleague of the author, discovered a beautifully situated nursery prepared for little Daisy. All evidence points to Daisy being very much wanted and loved before she was born.
> 
> Wernet fled Germany after the birth of Daisy. He was likely in fear for his life. Evidence has come to life that he was gravely injured by Clara’s parents and he may have feared that his daughter was at risk of the same vile curse that had doomed Clara. 
> 
> Daisy was brought up at Hartington Hall as the unacknowledged daughter of the house. She was without magic, but that never held her back. She was a famous artist of the day. Wernet lavished every available educational opportunity on Daisy. She was given as good an education as was available at the time and was apparently much loved and cared for. August Ernst Wernet never married. He died, still a bachelor, in his mid-fifties.
> 
> Records show that he died with Daisy by his side. It would seem that Clara von Kellern was truly the love of his life.
> 
> The author has included several images of Daisy Eloise McFee’s art, as well as paintings of her children and husband with this report. Most excitingly, it has been possible to locate a daguerreotype of Daisy herself. It is possible to see from the image that Daisy looked very much like Clara. They shared the same long ringleted hair and the same enigmatic smile.

~~~

**I’m not sure there’s much else to say.**

**From everything that I’ve read, Daisy led a full and very happy life. She flourished, she was loved and she never let her lack of magic stand in her way.**

**In some way, I’m proud to have known her, even if it was from the distance of over a hundred years. There's a part of me that feels shattered that Clara’s parents lied to her and broke her heart, but I honestly believe this truth will set her free, just as it has for you and I.**

**Writing to you – getting to know you – has helped me make peace with my past. It’s given me hope for the future too. I’m going to finish this letter here, I think, because the next time we talk it is going to be face to face.**

**I’ve just had a very exciting owl delivery: one ticket for an International Portkey to Potsdam, Germany. I think that’s the nearest transition point for Golm Manor.**

**I’ll be there at midday on Saturday, if you’d like to meet me? I’ll be the one with the scar and the dreadfully lopsided grin.**

**Harry**

**xxxx**

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Death in childbirth! Only mentioned, no graphic description.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading xx
> 
> This work is part of H/D Cluefest and the creator is currently undercover. You can follow the fest at our [Tumblr](https://hd-cluefest.tumblr.com/). Creators will be unmasked on the 15th April.


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